Until Then…

Today’s a new day! 

There are moments in life when God does not call us to speak louder, work harder, or create more. Instead, He calls us into stillness. Into quiet places where our hearts can rest, heal, listen, and be renewed in His presence.

I believe God is leading me into one of those seasons now.

As Laura and I step into this new adventure and begin this new chapter of our lives, I feel the Lord calling me into a season of silence and reflection. Because of that, I will not be sharing any new blog posts, spoken words, or music for a time. This is not a goodbye, but rather a pause — a sacred moment to step away from the noise and spend intentional time in prayer, rest, and seeking the heart of God.

Throughout Scripture, we see God drawing His people away before leading them forward. Moses spent time in the wilderness. Elijah heard God in the gentle whisper. Jesus Himself often withdrew to lonely places to pray. There is something holy about stepping back long enough to hear God clearly again.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is “a time to be silent and a time to speak.” Right now, I believe this is my time to be silent.

Silence can feel uncomfortable in a world that constantly demands content, opinions, and activity. Yet sometimes the greatest spiritual growth happens away from the spotlight, in hidden places where only God sees. It is in those quiet moments that He reshapes our hearts, renews our strength, and reminds us who we are apart from what we produce.

I do not know everything God has in store on the other side of this season, but I am excited to discover it. I trust that His plans are good, even when the path ahead is uncertain. This move, this transition, and this pause all feel covered in His peace.

To everyone who has read my writings, listened to my music, encouraged me, prayed for me, or walked alongside me on this journey — thank you. Your kindness and support have meant more than words can express.

As I step away for this season, my prayer for each of you is simple:

May the peace of God guard your hearts and minds.
May His blessings overflow in your homes and families.
May you hear His voice clearly in every season.
And may you never forget that even in silence, God is still moving.

I look forward to seeing what the Lord will do next.

Until then, grace and peace to each of you. ~OC

A Look Into 26.2

Today’s a new day!

There’s something powerful about the number 26.2.

For runners, it represents the full distance of a marathon — a journey that stretches the body, tests the mind, and reveals what’s truly inside a person. Nobody accidentally finishes 26.2 miles. It takes endurance, perseverance, discipline, and the willingness to keep moving even when every step feels heavy.

In many ways, the Christian life feels a lot like a marathon.

There are moments when faith feels effortless — when the sun is shining, prayers are being answered, and God’s blessings seem to overflow at every turn. But there are also difficult miles. The lonely miles. The exhausting miles. The stretches where you wonder if you can keep going.

Yet through every mile of life, God offers something the world cannot give: His peace.

Jesus said in The Gospel of John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”

That kind of peace is not dependent on circumstances. It is not tied to comfort, finances, success, or ease. God’s peace shows up in the middle of the race — when your legs are weak, your heart is tired, and you feel like stopping.

Anyone who has ever run a marathon knows there is usually a moment called “hitting the wall.” It’s the point where exhaustion crashes into you physically and mentally. Suddenly the finish line feels impossibly far away. For me, the wall always came at mile nineteen. I had to dig deep to keep moving forward.

Life has walls too.

Maybe it’s grief.
Maybe it’s uncertainty.
Maybe it’s a season of waiting.
Maybe it’s prayers that seem unanswered.
Maybe it’s carrying burdens nobody else sees.

But God specializes in strengthening weary runners.

The Book of Isaiah reminds us:

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.”

Notice that Scripture does not say believers will never get tired. It says God renews us in the middle of the race.

That is one of the greatest blessings of following Jesus — we were never meant to run alone.

At mile 5 of life, He is with us.
At mile 13, He is with us.
At mile 20, when everything hurts, He is still with us.
And at mile 26.2, when we finally cross the finish line, He is waiting with open arms.

God’s blessings are not always flashy or loud. Sometimes His greatest blessings look like:

  • Peace during chaos
  • Strength during weakness
  • Hope during heartbreak
  • Joy during uncertainty
  • Rest in the middle of exhaustion

Those blessings sustain us for the long run.

A marathon runner learns quickly that the race is not won in a sprint. It is won through consistency — one faithful step at a time. The same is true spiritually. Faith is built daily. Prayer by prayer. Step by step. Moment by moment.

Some days your pace may feel strong.
Other days you may barely move forward.

But if you are still walking with Jesus, you are still in the race.

And here’s the beautiful thing about God’s grace: He is not standing at the finish line condemning exhausted runners. He runs beside us. He strengthens us. He carries us when necessary. His peace becomes the oxygen for weary souls.

The Christian life is not about running perfectly.
It is about running faithfully.

So wherever you are in your “26.2 miles” today, remember this:

God sees every step.
He hears every prayer.
He knows every struggle.
And His peace is available for every mile ahead.

Keep running.
Keep trusting.

Keep your eyes on Jesus.

The finish line will be worth it. ~OC

Alive, Awake, Alert

Today’s a new day!

As I continue walking this journey, I do so alive, awake, alert, and enthusiastic for Jesus. Life has a way of trying to wear us down. There are days filled with uncertainty, storms that seem relentless, and moments when exhaustion tries to silence our praise. Yet through it all, Christ continues to breathe fresh life into my spirit. He reminds me that faith was never meant to be passive or lifeless. Following Jesus is an active, living relationship that transforms the way we walk, speak, love, and endure.

To be alive in Christ means my heart still burns with purpose. To be awake means I refuse to sleep through the calling God has placed on my life. To be alert means I recognize that every conversation, every trial, and every blessing is an opportunity to reflect His light. And to be enthusiastic for Jesus means I will never apologize for celebrating the One who saved my soul, carried me through valleys, and never once abandoned me in my darkest hours.

This journey is not always easy, but it is always worth it. Jesus never promised a life free of hardship, but He did promise His presence. Even on difficult days, there is joy because Christ is still King. There is hope because the tomb is still empty. There is peace because God is still on the throne. The enemy may try to discourage believers, but discouragement does not define us. Our identity is found in Jesus Christ alone.

So I will continue forward with passion and expectancy. I will continue loving people, speaking truth, extending grace, and pointing others toward the Savior. I want my life to reflect a heart that is fully surrendered and fully alive in Him. This world desperately needs believers who are awake to the movement of God and enthusiastic about sharing the Gospel without fear or hesitation.

Today, I choose joy. I choose faith. I choose worship. And above all else, I choose Jesus. ~OC

Purpose Equals Peace

Today’s a new day! 

For more than two decades, I have walked a road marked by uncertainty, pain, and countless moments where I was told my life might soon end. After hearing over fifty times that I had only hours, weeks, or months to live, I stopped counting. Not out of denial, but out of a quiet realization—life was never meant to be lived under the constant shadow of “what if today is the last day?” Instead, I chose to seek something deeper. In the midst of my storm, I prayed and asked Jesus to show me my purpose within the pain. And He answered.

What I discovered changed everything. My hospital rooms became mission fields. Waiting rooms turned into places of ministry. Conversations with doctors, nurses, and fellow patients became opportunities to encourage, uplift, and share hope. God didn’t remove my storm, but He gave it meaning. Over the years, He has allowed me to walk alongside others in their darkest moments—offering support, listening ears, and reminders that they are not alone. It has been one of the greatest privileges of my life to be used in this way. And in that purpose, I found something unexpected: peace. A deep, unshakable peace that doesn’t depend on circumstances.

Time and time again, I’ve heard others share a similar testimony. When they begin to understand that God has a purpose even in their suffering, something shifts. The fear loosens its grip. The questions quiet. And peace begins to take root. It doesn’t mean the storm disappears—but it does mean the storm no longer defines them. So today, I want to gently challenge you: what is God revealing to you in your current season? Are you leaning in to listen, or are you overwhelmed by the noise of the storm? Have you allowed your struggle to become your identity, or are you willing to surrender it?

Take a moment today to lay your burdens at the foot of the Cross. In fact, don’t just lay them down—leave them there. Nail your fears, your pain, your questions, and your weariness to the Cross and trust that Jesus will carry what you cannot. I can’t promise that your season of hardship will end quickly, or even in the way you hope. But I can promise this: when you seek God’s purpose in the storm, you will find His peace. Even now, as I continue walking through ongoing health challenges, I do so with hope and a calm assurance that God is not finished.

So the question remains—are you willing to take that first step today? To trust, to seek, and to walk forward in the purpose God has prepared for you? Peace and victory are not found in the absence of storms, but in the presence of Jesus within them. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Stop Working For God

Today’s a new day! 

Many years ago during my quiet time, I felt God challenging me to stop working for Him and instead truly realize what a gift it was to serve and be in His presence. Here a little of the story.

Because I quit working for God and simply said, “I will join you for the rest of my days,” something in my life began to change. For a long time, my faith felt like a long list of tasks—things to accomplish, prayers to say the right way, expectations to meet. I thought devotion meant striving harder, proving my commitment through effort and discipline. But surrender came quietly when I realized that what Jesus seemed to desire most was not my performance, but my presence. When I stopped trying to impress God and instead chose to walk with Him, faith became less about pressure and more about relationship.

Since then, Jesus has continued teaching me in small, ordinary moments. He keeps inviting me into the simple gift of living in the present moment—the place where grace actually happens. The past no longer needs to define me, and the future does not need to be controlled. Instead, I learned to notice the sacred in what was right in front of me: a conversation, a breath of gratitude, a quiet moment of prayer. Following Him was no longer about constantly doing more for God; it was and is about learning to live with God, moment by moment. In that space of companionship, life begins to feel less like a burden to carry and more like a gift to receive. ~OC

You can listen to the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Greatness

Today’s a new day! As we walk into a new week, I wanted to share the following with you. 

Greatness just doesn’t happen. In our walk with Christ, greatness is not measured by fame, wealth, or recognition, but by faithfulness, obedience, and a heart devoted to God. Growing spiritually takes time, prayer, discipline, and dedication. Just as an athlete trains their body, believers must also train their hearts and minds through God’s Word, prayer, and daily commitment to living out their faith. Greatness in God’s kingdom is built through humility, perseverance, and trust in His plan.

Greatness also requires sacrifice. Following Christ means we may have to let go of things that distract us from God’s purpose. It may mean giving up comfort, pride, or personal desires in order to serve Him more fully. 

Scripture reminds us that true discipleship comes with a cost, but the reward of walking closely with God is far greater than anything we could ever give up. Spiritual growth often happens in difficult seasons, when our faith is tested and our reliance on God grows stronger.

So ask yourself: are you willing to put in the hard work? Are you willing to make some sacrifices? Are you willing to dedicate your time, sweat, and tears to pursuing the purpose God has placed on your life? A life of faith is not always easy, but it is always worth it. God often works through our struggles to strengthen our character and deepen our trust in Him.

If you desire to live a life of greatness, then keep pushing through those hard moments. Keep pushing past the hurdles that try to shake your faith. Keep dreaming about the plans God has for your life, and keep believing that He is working in you and through you. Stay faithful, stay prayerful, and keep moving forward, knowing that with God’s strength and guidance, true greatness in His kingdom is always within reach. ~OC

You can check out the Spoken Word version of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Facing Your Giants

Today’s a new day! 

Every morning on this crazy, beautiful health journey, I’m faced with a decision. I can wake up and allow the giants called my health issues to define me and dictate the direction of my day, or I can choose something greater. I can face those giants head on by placing them in God’s hands and trusting that His plan is bigger than my fears, my pain, and my uncertainty. Some days the giants feel loud and overwhelming, but faith reminds me that they are never bigger than the God who walks beside me.

So today, I choose to fight. I choose to be the warrior Jesus created me to be. I refuse to live like a person who is dying when God has filled me with life, purpose, and strength. I am a person very much alive, with a lot of fight left in me. Every step forward—no matter how small—is a declaration that hope is still winning. God didn’t create us to surrender to fear; He created us to stand firm in faith and trust Him in the battle.

As you face your own giants today—whether they are health struggles, fear, loss, or uncertainty—I pray you will place them in God’s hands and let Him fight for you. You don’t have to carry every burden alone. When we release our battles to Him, we find strength we didn’t know we had and peace that only He can provide. Stay focused on His promises. Stay strong in your faith. And keep running your race knowing that through Him, you are running in victory. ~OC

***You can listen to the Spoken Word of post on my YouTube channel at Todd E. Shoemaker Music.

Take A Moment

Today’s a new day!

As we walk into this Sunday, it’s a beautiful moment to pause and ask ourselves a simple but powerful question: What am I thankful for? Life moves quickly, and it’s easy to focus on the challenges, the worries, and the endless to-do lists. But Sunday gives us a sacred invitation to slow down and remember the goodness of God. Gratitude shifts our hearts. When we take time to thank God for the breath in our lungs, the people we love, and the quiet ways He provides each day, we begin to see His faithfulness everywhere.

Sometimes the biggest blessings are found in the smallest moments. A peaceful morning, a kind word from a friend, strength to get through a difficult week—these are reminders that God is present in every part of our lives. Scripture continually calls us to give thanks, not only when life feels perfect, but in every season. Gratitude becomes an act of trust, a declaration that God is still working even when we cannot see the whole picture.

So as this Sunday begins, take a moment to reflect and thank God for something specific in your life. Maybe it’s a new opportunity, a lesson learned through hardship, or simply the gift of another day. When we begin our week with thankful hearts, we step forward with renewed faith, hope, and peace, trusting that the same God who carried us through yesterday will guide us through the days ahead. ~OC

The Gospel

I never want the Gospel to grow old in my heart. I never want it to become background noise—familiar words that pass by without weight or wonder. The message at the center of the Christian faith is not just a story I heard once in Sunday school; it is the living, breathing good news of Jesus Christ—His life, His sacrifice, and His resurrection. It is the reminder that grace was never earned, only given. That mercy met me at my worst. That love chose the cross anyway. When I think about it, really think about it, I’m undone. The Gospel is not basic. It is not entry-level Christianity. It is the foundation, the heartbeat, the reason any of this matters at all.

If I am not careful, familiarity can tempt my heart toward callousness. I can quote verses without trembling. I can sing worship songs without reflecting on the cost. I can speak about the cross as a concept instead of remembering it as a rescue. But the Gospel was never meant to be reduced to routine. It is the power of God to save, to transform, to renew weary souls. It confronts my pride and comforts my shame at the same time. It reminds me that I am more sinful than I want to admit and more loved than I dare to hope.

I never want to outgrow what saved me. I never want to move past the wonder that God would step into human history, bear human suffering, and conquer death so that we could be reconciled to Him. The message of the cross should still stop me in my tracks. It should still soften my heart. It should still bring me to gratitude. If the Gospel ever feels small to me, it is not because it has lost its power—it is because I have lost my perspective. So I pray for fresh awe. I pray for tender ground in my soul. Because the Gospel is not old news. It is eternal good news, and I never want to treat it as anything less. ~OC

***You can listen to the Spoken Word of this post at my YouTube channel Todd E.Shoemaker Music.

Even In The ICU

As I sit here in ICU, my body is struggling. It’s tired from such a long battle. Every breath feels heavier than it used to. The steady rhythm of the beeping machines reminds me just how fragile this earthly body can be. And yet, in the middle of all of it, I feel a peace — a peace that surpasses all understanding, like the kind described in Philippians 4:6–7. 

My journey doesn’t make sense by human standards. Circumstances say fear. The monitors say concern. The weakness says exhaustion. But my spirit says peace. Jesus is here in this room, and that changes everything.

I do not totally understand why God chose me to walk this crazy, beautiful health journey… but He did. And because He did, I can trust that He has purpose in it. In my weakness, I turn to Him for strength. In my uncertainty, I turn to Him for guidance. If He can use these words written from an ICU bed to encourage even one person, then it’s worth it. 

My desire is simply to be a humble servant. I don’t crave a platform. I have no desire to be a social influencer. I’m not chasing fame or recognition. My only desire is to serve Jesus and to love and serve others well. If that service happens from a hospital room in Intensive Care, then I humbly accept the assignment. 

Whether standing on a stage or lying in a hospital bed, my calling remains the same: to reflect His love. This body may be weary, but my spirit is willing. And as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will continue to point people to the One who gives true hope and peace — even in the ICU. ~OC

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